


remake me & you

by emmerrr



Series: Only Fools Rush In [8]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Gen, I don't know how to tag this, Platonic Relationships, ronan and gansey bonding time I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmerrr/pseuds/emmerrr
Summary: During a lazy afternoon/evening at Monmouth, Ronan and Gansey discuss the past and the future.





	remake me & you

**Author's Note:**

> this is named after a diana vickers song that has no bearing on the fic itself I just liked the title :)

It’s early evening in Monmouth and Ronan’s lying flat on his back on the floor in a patch of sunlight that’s streaming in through the window. He’s been tracking it since he got here, not unlike the cats used to do back on the farm, shifting with the light and warmth as the sun makes its way across the sky. It’ll disappear entirely soon and make way for night, but for now Ronan is pretty content, eyes closed and headphones on. It’s techno again today, loud and obnoxious enough to drown everything else out. Just the way Ronan likes it.

Blue and Adam are both at work at Nino’s and Boyd’s respectively, and Henry is spending the evening with his mother who’s in town for a whirlwind visit, so it’s just Ronan and Gansey for now. It’s easy, quiet company, reminiscent of when Ronan lived here full-time. He’s still not one hundred percent moved out of Monmouth, but it’s very rare now that he’ll actually spend a night here. If he’s not sleeping at the Barns, he’s more than likely curled around Adam at St. Agnes.

How things change in just a few months. It’s amazing how quickly you can get used to something, though, and Ronan’s well aware that his normal will change yet again come the Fall.

Thinking about it is enough to get him to sit up and take his headphones off. Gansey’s bed is directly in Ronan’s eyeline, and the man himself is sitting cross-legged in the middle of it with his journal open on his lap. He’s wearing his glasses, brow furrowed in concentration and he’s lightly pinching his lower lip as he reads. His posture is anxious and it makes Ronan nervous.

“Gansey.”

There’s no response but it’s not out of rudeness, Gansey is just too absorbed to notice. Ronan gets to his feet and walks noisily over which does the trick; Gansey looks up at him questioningly.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Just your name. What are you doing?”

Gansey returns his attention to his journal. That same Glendower journal again, even though there’s no point. They found him, quest accomplished. Ronan’s mom is gone, Noah’s gone, Ronan and everything he had ever dreamed nearly got unmade, Gansey died to stop it, and then he came back again. They asked Cabeswater, and Cabeswater delivered, and now it’s gone too.

So nothing went like it was supposed to, but things rarely do. It’s still finished now. It’s over.

“I’m just going over some of these notes again,” Gansey says at last, distractedly.

“Fucking— _why?”_

“I don’t know. I just can’t make sense of it.” He flips through a few pages then tosses the journal to the side with reckless abandon and runs a hand through his hair. “Just — doesn’t it feel like we missed something?” Gansey looks up at last, frustration etched onto his face. “We went through all of that and in the end he was just. . . _dead_ already. Didn’t it just feel wrong?”

This is a conversation they’ve had before, although not for a while.

The first time it happened was soon after everything had all happened, and Ronan actually found it quite relieving in the moment. He’d had his own quiet fears that the Gansey they had now wasn’t _their_ Gansey, not really. What if he’d been brought back wrong, what if they’d all been so blinded by grief and had made a decision they shouldn’t have? Maybe life and death weren’t forces they should be playing with. This was raising the dead, this was wrong, God knows, this was _wrong_. . .

But they hadn’t been dealing with God. They’d been dealing with magic, and there’s a difference, Ronan’s well aware. So when Gansey had picked up that damn journal again and started poring over it, glasses on and hair mussed, Ronan had breathed a little easier. This was Gansey the scholar, and Ronan knew him well. It was like a little message from the universe to reassure them all that Gansey — _their_ Gansey — was still in there, the essence of him not lost.

He was changed of course, but they all were. None of them had come out unscathed, not even Henry who may have entered the game late, but not quite late enough to escape the psychological trauma. Watching a friend die will do that to a person, as temporary as it may have been.

The _point_ , however, was that the remaining Glendower obsession had been welcomed initially. But it had been months now, and yet here Gansey still was, flipping through that goddamn tattered _fucking_ journal.

“No,” Ronan says, and his tone’s harsher than he means it to be. “I don’t think we missed a fucking thing.”

“But—” Gansey starts, reaching again for the journal, but Ronan snatches it up before he can get to it.

“Enough, Gansey, just — _no_. Can’t we just fucking leave it now?”

“Ronan—”

“It’s _over_ now,” Ronan interrupts. “Don’t you just want it to be finished?”

He’s still on his feet and when Gansey peers up at him he looks lost and afraid and all of the fight abruptly leaves Ronan.

“Who am I without Glendower, Ronan?” he asks in a very small voice.

“You’re—” Ronan breaks off and he sighs. He turns and sits down on the floor, his back against the foot of Gansey’s bed-frame, head dropped back onto the edge of the mattress. He slides the journal under the bed. “You’re who you’ve _always_ been,” he says, and the words come easier now that he doesn’t have to look at Gansey while he says them. “You’re Gansey. Searching for Glendower was something you did but it wasn’t your. . . your fucking _identity_ or some shit. You’re still your own person.”

“Am I?” Gansey asks quietly.

“Fuck, _yes_ , of course you fucking are.”

There’s a silence and it drags, and then Ronan hears Gansey start to shift on his bed. Once he’s stilled again his words come from much closer. “Sometimes I’m not so sure anymore.”

Ronan tilts his head to the side and almost gets a face-full of Gansey’s magnificent hair; he’s lying on his back staring at the ceiling, head on the edge of the mattress close to Ronan’s. Maybe it’s easier for him to say what he feels without making eye-contact too.

Ronan faces back forwards. Reassurance has never been his strong suit, but then again he’s not even sure that’s what Gansey’s asking for, or if he’s even asking for anything at all. Maybe he’s just talking out loud, and Ronan just happens to be here. Regardless, the words are out there now, they’ve been heard, and Ronan has to respond. He needs to.

“Gansey, you’ve always been bigger than your quest.”

Ronan can tell Gansey’s shaking his head without having to look at him. “But it’s been all I’ve known for so many years. It might not have been my identity originally, but I _made_ it my identity, didn’t I? So what do I do now?”

“Whatever the fuck you _want_ ,” Ronan says emphatically. He’s starting to think he knows where all this is coming from. Adam’s been up to his eyeballs in college applications so Gansey’s bound to have been as well, ready to step forward on the path he’s expected to follow. An Ivy League education and then whatever the fuck comes after. The difference is that Ivy League is Adam’s dream, everything he’s been working for. Ronan’s not so sure Gansey feels quite the same. There’s an expectation there, but it’s not Gansey’s.

“Is this,” Ronan starts tentatively, picking at his leather-bands, “is this about next year?”

“Did you know that Blue and Henry have already started planning out their trip?” Gansey says instead of a straight answer, but it’s an answer in and of itself.

“Yeah, it’s all they’ll fucking talk about,” Ronan says. “And?”

“And nothing. It just all sounds exciting, that’s all.” His tone is all wistful and longing.

“You know that they want you to go, right? I _know_ they’ve asked you to come, Sargent told me. They’ll have more fun if you’re there. You want to go with them. So go.”

Gansey sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“It fucking is,” Ronan practically growls. “You did plenty of disappearing acts when you were younger on your Glendower search and you still managed to maintain your GPA, and you’ll graduate from Aglionby with it still intact. So what’s the fucking problem if you take a year out to travel or whatever the fuck you wanna do?”

“Yeah, Ronan, it sounds easy when you put it that way, and you’re right, I just. . . I know they’ll be disappointed, is all. My parents. They’ve been expecting me to go straight to college after graduation, and I. . . maybe I’ve put them through a lot with all the Glendower stuff, and—”

“Don’t even start with that shit, Gansey. If anything your parents were downright irresponsible letting you just fucking jet-off on your own. You didn’t put them through anything, they just let you do it with all these caveats that you kept up with your schooling and whatever. So don’t feel guilty about it now. What do _you_ want to do?”

There’s a beat, then two, and Gansey looses a breath. “I want to go with Blue and Henry.”

“Okay. Great. So call your mom and tell her that, and hopefully everyone’ll be on board. If not? Fuck it. Go anyway.”

Gansey snorts a little at that and Ronan feels better to hear it. Ronan reaches back his hand and ruffles Gansey’s hair as yet another silence descends.

“I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about the future lately,” Gansey says after a little while, and Ronan lets his hand drop away. “I think that’s why it’s so hard to let go of. . . of Glendower. You know?”

Ronan doesn’t think Gansey actually expects a response, so he waits, and sure enough Gansey continues when he’s collected his thoughts.

“It was just you and me for a while. And then there was Noah, and Adam, and Blue, and then Henry, and all of that felt. . . _right_. And now, before we know it, summer will be here and everything will change again. . .”

He trails off, and Ronan closes his eyes. Change is almost all he’s been thinking about lately, but apparently he’s not the only one. He at least thought he was the only one dreading it but perhaps that isn’t true. Maybe he’s not the only one that wants to freeze time. Freeze moments with Adam, freeze moments with his friends. Keep them here, for just a little longer.

“You could come with us, Ronan,” Gansey says.

“Huh?”

“To Venezuela. And beyond.”

Ronan laughs. “Ohhh, Dick, I appreciate the invite but I can’t. Not really.”

“Why not?”

Ronan shrugs. “I don’t really want to?” he ventures.

“Oh,” Gansey says, and he sounds a little hurt.

“Come on, man, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How _did_ you mean it?”

“It’s like,” Ronan sighs. “I just got the Barns back, I can’t leave it _now_. There’s so much to do over there and I want to be the one to do it, I really do. And I don’t really want to be that far from Matthew, not to mention Opal could definitely use the company. And. . .”

“And Adam,” Gansey finishes for him softly.

Ronan shrugs again. “Yeah, and Adam. He’s gonna need somewhere to come back to in college breaks, and it’s — it’s whatever, he can come back to the Barns. I want him to.”

There’s a hesitation and then Gansey says, “That’s really nice, Ronan.”

“Fuck off, I can practically _feel_ you smiling at me.”

“I’m not making fun, Jesus, Lynch. I mean it. I think it’s nice. And if it’s what you want then good. I want you to be happy.”

It’s all starting to feel awfully sentimental and Ronan’s always been good at ruining a moment. “Yeah thanks, Dad,” he says.

“Ronan,” Gansey says, wounded, “was there _any_ need?”

Ronan laughs softly. “Sorry.”

They spend the next couple of hours like that, Ronan on the floor, Gansey lying up on his bed. They talk sometimes, but the silence is just as comfortable, just as familiar.

Eventually they hear Adam’s shitbox limp into the carpark, and a minute later the door gets jiggled noisily open as Blue and Adam make their entrance.

“ _Why_ are you two sitting in the dark?” Blue exclaims and switches the light on, ignoring Ronan and Gansey’s pained winces.

“It got dark _around_ us, Sargent,” Ronan says, but his eyes are already on Adam, who’s holding two pizza boxes Blue obviously managed to take from work. “Just in time, Parrish. I’m starving.”

Adam looks tired, of course he does, but he smiles and he comes straight over to sit at Ronan’s side, depositing the pizza boxes in front of him. He leans his head against Ronan’s shoulder and Ronan surreptitiously presses a kiss to his temple.

Blue kicks off her shoes and bounces onto Gansey’s bed, looming over him.

“Hello, Jane,” he says, and Ronan can hear the smile in his voice as Gansey pulls himself up into a sitting position and twines his fingers with Blue’s. “How was your shift? And yours, Adam.”

“Fine,” they both chorus dutifully.

“Pass me a pizza, Adam,” Blue says, and Adam passes a box up. As they eat, Blue asks what Ronan and Gansey have been doing.

“Oh, nothing really. Just shooting the breeze,” Gansey says amiably, and Ronan rolls his eyes. “Oh, but I’m going to call my mother tomorrow. Start negotiations for a gap year.”

It takes a minute for that to register but then Blue gasps. “Does this mean. . . oh! Gansey, are you coming with us?”

Gansey laughs. “Yes, Jane. If you’ll have me.”

“Of _course_ we’ll have you, you idiot, it wouldn’t be the same without you!” she says and she flings her arms around his neck, laughing delightedly.

“That’s really great, Gansey,” Adam says. “I’m glad you finally decided to go for it.”

“Me too.” He exchanges a little glance with Ronan. “Finally saw sense, I guess.”

“I cannot _wait_ to tell Henry,” Blue says. “I wish he was here.”

“He’ll be back tomorrow. Let’s tell him then,” Gansey says.

And just like that, the rest of the conversation turns to travel planning again, except this time Gansey’s bright and excited with possibility. Adam and Ronan offer their input here and there, but on the whole they listen to Blue and Gansey’s good-natured bickering, and this, too, is familiar.

It gets late too soon, and Blue gets up to go. “Does someone want to give me a ride?” she asks pleasantly.

Adam yawns but nods as he does so. “Yeah, I can, I’m gonna head back to St. Agnes anyway. I’m beat.” He looks to Ronan. “You coming?”

“Uhhh,” Ronan says, flicking his gaze over to Gansey, whose features are already starting to cloud over at the thought of Monmouth suddenly going quiet again. “Actually, I think I’m gonna stay here tonight, if that’s alright?”

Adam frowns. “Yeah, ‘course it is. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” He rubs the back of his head. “It’s just been a while since I’ve slept here.”

Adam glances subtly between Ronan and Gansey and nods in quiet understanding. “Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Ronan kisses Adam. And then he kisses him again, just because he can. “Go on, Parrish. Go home and get some sleep.”

Once Blue and Adam have left, Ronan busies himself tidying up the empty pizza boxes and washing the few dishes that were left on the side. When he’s finished, Gansey’s changed into his PJs and is sitting on the floor looking over his model Henrietta. He turns when he hears Ronan’s footsteps.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he says.

“I know that,” Ronan replies. “And I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

Gansey just nods, then sighs and takes his glasses off, rubbing the heels of his hands against his tired eyes. “I still don’t sleep well,” he admits. Insomniac Gansey is a creature Ronan knows well.

“Welcome to the club,” he says with a wry smile.

“So what should we do?”

Ronan shrugs. “Let’s go get some orange juice.”

Gansey smiles. “Okay. _I'll_ drive.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love gansey so much but I'm still too scared to tackle his POV. one day maybe! anyway I love ronan and gansey's friendship so I hope you liked this, let me know what you think! <3


End file.
